


Whipped

by CorrahDarling



Category: British Actor RPF, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Angst, Baking, Cute Doggies, Divorce, Drunk Sex, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, Long-Distance Relationship, Oral Sex, Romance, Rough Sex, Sexy Henry, Shower Sex, Stress Baking, Superman Played by Henry Cavill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28421118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorrahDarling/pseuds/CorrahDarling
Summary: I hope you all enjoy Chapter One of my story starring Henry Cavill, Whipped. We shall see where this leads... :) Feedback is ALWAYS appreciated!
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76





	1. Whipped

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy Chapter One of my story starring Henry Cavill, Whipped. We shall see where this leads... :) Feedback is ALWAYS appreciated!

Rosie was on her knees in the kitchen looking for a special cake pan for an important wedding. She wouldn’t have been going to so much trouble if the cake wasn’t going to be exquisite… and profitable.

“Hey Boss,” Lizzie, Rosie’s assistant, ducked her head through the back door. “Some guy with a crazy-hot, deep voice just called and requested a massive order… says he ‘must’ pick it up in 30 minutes and ‘it’s very important that it’s done properly.”

“Ow, fuck.” She jumped and banged her head on the metal shelf above her. “What? What does he want?” Rosalie’s nose wrinkled as she began to read the order that her assistant, Lizzie, had written down. “Oh, wow. Um… in only 30 minutes? I don’t even know if I have all of this made! Just take care of the customers in the front, and I’ll try and get this order together.” Rosalie scrambled around as she pulled different pastries and sweets from the storefront case as well as the backup stock from the racks in the kitchen, to place it all very neatly in fancy robin’s egg blue pastry boxes. Normally, people would place orders like this weeks, even months, in advance. Still, she tried to satisfy all of her customers.

Rosalie Reed had moved to London a little over a year ago, trying to distance herself from a bitter divorce that had left her life in shambles and her heart in pieces. She needed change, so she took her savings and moved from Kansas to London… _seemed logical at the time._ As soon as she arrived, she had sought out the perfect storefront on one of London’s busiest streets and worked excessively hard at renovating the place. Finally, she opened her business doing what she loved – baking. _Whipped_ became an instant hit and she seemed to stay in demand. Apparently, _some_ people didn’t know just how busy she was… ahem… _Mr. Crazy-Hot, Deep Voice guy_.

She had just gotten the last few perfect, colorful macarons placed delicately and neatly in a slim box meant especially for them and placed her pink logo sticker on the cardboard to seal it. She was in the zone and shrieked when Lizzie ducked her head through the door to the back. To say she was on edge was an understatement. “Rose, the deep-voiced guy rang again… he wants to talk to you. He’s on hold.” She shrugged as she delivered the message.

“Seriously?” She huffed before she picked up the phone in the back. “This is Rosalie, how may I assist you?” She asked, with a fake smile plastered on her face.

“Hullo, Rosalie, my name is Henry. I placed a rather large order with your assistant about 30 minutes ago.”

Okay, so Lizzie wasn’t lying about this guy’s voice. Jesus, she could listen to him talk all night long… and he sounded oddly familiar, even though she knew she hadn’t met him before. She didn’t know any Henrys. “Oh, yes sir, I just finished packing it all up for you.”

“Ah, fantastic. I was wondering, however… I am in a bit of a hurry. Do you, by chance, have a back entrance that I can meet you at instead of coming in through the front? It looked rather busy.”

“Oh… um, I’ll admit that is a request that I haven’t had before.” She eyed the metal backdoor. This was getting weirder by the minute. He was a paying customer after all, and this order would definitely be worth getting kidnapped over, as long as she got the money in the till first. “But, that’s fine, if you’d rather. Just pull around back, I’ll be watching for you. What sort of car will you be in?”

“Aston Martin. Silver.” He spoke in that voice that practically made the phone vibrate in Rosalie’s hand from the bass of it. “I’ll be there in 5.”

She wrinkled her nose at the now silent phone and slammed it down a little harder than normal. _Who does this guy think he is? James Bond? Seriously, who drives around in a fucking Aston Martin? Those things are like, half a million dollars._

She used a piece of concrete to prop the back door open to watch for this deep-voiced, luxury car-driving man. No wonder he was demanding and spoiled, just another rich prick who thought that the rules didn’t apply to him. She plopped down in a chair and proceeded to spin in it lazily until she heard the gentle purr of an expensive automobile drift closer, and finally the shiny, silver car come into view.

“Holy shit. Yep, nice car.” Rosie whispered under her breath. The windows were tinted so darkly when it pulled up beside her that she couldn’t see the driver. The door opened and a hulk of a man unfolded himself and exited. She snickered under her breath as she wondered how he fit in that car. Clad in black boots, dark denim trousers, and a bright blue and black flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he stood at least 6’2. His brown curls hung loosely on his head and his eyes sparkled as he took her in.

“Something funny?” He smiled as he looked down at himself to make sure everything was still in place. He never tried to show it, but he remained self-conscious, even after years of women practically falling at his feet.

“Oh… uh… no. I’m sorry, Henry. Been a very long day…” Rosie smiled at him. “Come on in. I’ll get you fixed up.” She gestured toward the open door to her kitchen.

“Lead the way.”

She could feel him following closely behind her, and she wracked her brain as to where she knew him from. “Okay, so this is your complete order.”

He nodded as he picked up one of the slim macaron boxes, took in the pink sticker and read aloud: “Whipped – _Making your sweetest dreams come true_.” He laughed. “Love the slogan… and that little cartoon version of you on here is right spot on. I assume you’re the owner?” 

“That would be me.” Rosie smiled as she pulled up his order in her computer. “So, your total today is £562.20, sir.” She halfway expected him to balk at that amount, but he didn’t even bat an eyelash.

“If the sweets in those boxes taste half as good as it smells in here, it will be well worth it.” He pulled a credit card from his wallet and handed it to her, along with a dashing smile.

“Well, I certainly hope you enjoy it. Are you eating all this by yourself?” She teased as she swiped his card through her machine.

He laughed loudly. “Oh, I wish. No, I have an important meeting to go to and I am trying to make a good impression.”

“Well, this should do the trick.” She grinned as she concentrated on the name on his card. Cavill… Cavill… Henry Cavill. She still couldn’t place how she knew him. “Okay, sir, please sign this receipt, and I will print one out for your records, as well.”

He folded his copy of the receipt and slid it into his back pocket, and both Rosie and he grabbed arms full of sugary smelling boxes. They reached his car and she followed him to the passenger side. “Okay, I believe we will just put boxes where we can, this car isn’t very big. Why don’t you start putting them in the back seat, and I will see if I can fit some in the other side?” He offered.

Rosie agreed and grabbed the biggest boxes to place in the back. Once she did, she felt a very large tongue lick her arm. “What the fudge!”

“Oh, it’s okay!” Henry yelped as he ran back around to her side of the car. By the time he made it, an enormous furball had made its way into the front seat. Henry stopped and took in the scene. Rosie was laughing so hard that she was bent over clutching her stomach, and the dog was slathering her face and hair with doggie kisses. “I’m sorry. That’s my dog. Very gentle, as you can see. Part bear, part pig… all love.” He snickered as he watched Rosie run her fingers through the dog’s thick coat.

“Oh, my gosh, you are the most beautiful, sweetest boy.” She fawned over him and he certainly enjoyed the attention. “This has made my day. I love dogs. Can’t imagine my life without them. I’ve always had them… they make the best of friends.”

“That, they do.” He squinted his eyes and was taken aback at the instant connection that this baker had made with his furry son.

“He’s an Akita, right?” She asked.

“Mmm-hmm. I’ve had him since he was a tiny… well, not so tiny… but you know… small-ish puppy.”

“I have a great dane, myself. Athena… kinda a nerdy name. I like mythology.” She smiled up a toothy grin at Henry. “She’s my girl… my enormous, harlequin girl. She has one blue eye and one brown eye.” Suddenly realization hit. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry. You said you were in a hurry. I’ll get the last few boxes from my kitchen! I just couldn’t resist this guy. What’s his name?”

“It’s Kal.”

“Kal? Ahh… you mean like Superman?” She asked, innocently.

“Yes, _exactly_ as in Superman.” Henry was enjoying this. She obviously didn’t know who he was, and that was refreshing.

“Well, Kal… you be a sweet boy.” She giggled one last time as she rubbed his head and she could have sworn he smiled. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Henry grinned and nodded, watching the very pretty baker walk away, white flour covering her black apron. “Kal, you little devil. You must stop flirting the ladies. It’s completely unacceptable.” Henry laughed as he gave Kal one last rub and closed the passenger door.

“This is all of it. These are small, so I think we can kind of Tetris-wedge them in here. Just be gentle with these.” She pointed to the slim macaron boxes. “Very delicate.”

“The contents of the box, or the woman whose picture you are pointing at?” Henry asked as his eyes glimmered down toward hers.

Rosie looked down and noticed she was pointing right to her caricature. “Oh, yeah… um… no, the macarons. Just… um… be gentle or they’ll break.”

“Duly noted, Rosie.” Henry reached down and grabbed her free hand to shake. “Pleasure to meet you and thank you for making my sweetest dreams come true.” He grinned with a wink, making her face turn beet red. _What a fucking cringy motto._ With a small wave, he was gone, and she was glad. That was just a bit awkward… no, actually a lot awkward.

She grabbed his signed receipt to file it with the rest of the credit card receipts… Henry… Cavill… Kal… Superman… She just couldn’t place hi-

_Wait. It couldn’t be._

She ran to her computer and typed Man of Steel into the google search bar. There he was. Henry Cavill… _Superman_.

“Ho-ly… shit. Lizzie!” She yelled for her assistant, not able to move from her spot.

“What’s wrong?” The young woman asked.

Rosie turned toward Lizzie with wide eyes. “Uh… you know deep-voice guy? I’ve been trying to place him ‘cause he sounded so familiar.”

“Yeah… and?”

“It turns out that I’ve placed him… he’s a fucking superhero, and I just made a complete ass out of myself.”


	2. The Banquet

**Whipped- The Banquet**

The interaction between Rosie and Henry the afternoon before played over again and again in her head. ‘What had she said? What had _he_ said? What kind of impression had she left on him?’ she wondered. Most of all, what did _any_ of that matter? He was a customer; she was a baker. “Geez, why am I even thinking about this? I’ll probably never even see him again.” She said… out loud… to no one… yup, she was losing it. He was a celebrity… _so_ far out of her league… and she _definitely_ wasn’t looking for a man right now. Nope, no men. She had sworn off of them for a long time after her divorce was final. ‘Had this been long enough?’ It had seemed like he had flirted with her, but it was probably all in her head.

She rolled her eyes at herself, and retrieved 3 pills from bottles on a shelf in her kitchen. Her psychiatrist prescribed those for her after she arrived in London and still didn’t quite feel like herself. She figured taking a couple of pills a day to help her feelings definitely outweighed feeling like utter shit all the time. They helped… but sometimes that depressive sadness was still there. Her marriage and divorce had left scars on her that were so deep, some days she wondered if she’d ever find her way out.

She sighed and reached into an enormous bag of food, filled her dog’s bowl, and made sure Athena had plenty of fresh water. Those activities prompted huge kisses from her tiny 120-pound baby. Rosie wasn’t that tall, so it didn’t take much for the great dane to give her sugar. “Oh, Athena. You’re my best girl, aren’t you?” She giggled as Athena sat on the floor, wagging her tail. Rosie sat down beside her, which made the dog tower over her. “What do you want, little miss? A good scratching?” She used both hands to begin scratching behind the dog’s ears, before Athena rolled onto her back insisting on a belly rub. “I met a match for you yesterday, he was tall, dark, and handsome. His name was Kal, and he even liked to be scratched behind the ears like you… but I must tell you, he gave me kisses and I think he even smiled at me. He may be a bit of a player. I wonder if his owner is the same way?” Athena just groaned at her before hopping up and licking Rosie in the face.

Once she decided that she was, indeed, completely crazy, she slipped on her apron and looked at her watch. 5 AM. Time for work. She lived very close, so she could walk in record time. She had a lot of breads and pastries that needed to be started in order to be ready at opening time – 9 AM. She offered sweets all day long, meal offerings at lunchtime – normally a type of soup and sandwiches, and of course, traditional teatime specials.

She ran herself crazy trying to make it all work, but with her helpers by her side, she managed. Lizzie was her assistant, her number two in charge, her main helper. She knew the shop almost as well as Rosie and arrived around 6AM. Then, there was Oliver and Finley who waited on the tables. Both tall, handsome young men, Ollie with blond hair and light blue eyes, and Finley with dark hair, dark eyes and skin the color of mocha. Sometimes, Rosie wondered if some of the young women that frequented her shop didn’t come just to see those two men. She giggled as she thought about it. The guys didn’t come in until 8:00, just in time to get their aprons on and get the front prepped for their day.

She rolled the dough and set it to rise on the tall metal racks, while shaping some sweets and flaky croissants to fill with jellies and chocolate. She began work on the delicate macarons as Lizzie slowly buzzed in. “Morning, Rose.”

“Morning, Lizzie!” Rosie smiled at the blond with the pink streak in her hair. “Need some coffee?”

“Yes. Yes, coffee.” Liz went to work firing up the industrial, commercial-grade coffee machine in the back. She would never get used to waking up this early, so she and Rosie were complete opposites in the morning… sometimes she just wanted to smack the smile right off of Rosie’s face. Although, Lizzie knew that this shop was all Rosie had… she woke – ran the shop – went home – took care of Athena -- went to sleep – and did it all again. She understood why that was Rosie’s life, though. Dating would leave a bad taste in Rosie’s mouth, so if she wanted a boring life then so be it.

Lizzie sighed as she smelled the brew beginning to fill her cup. She became a new person when that coffee hit her brain. “Well, I guess I’ll get to work…” she said as she sidled up beside Rosie and began the batter for Rosie’s _famous_ cupcake – the reason most people came here in the first place – the _snickerdoodle_ cupcake. It was cinnamon-y, sweet, fragrant, and had a delicious cream cheese frosting that swirled at least 4 inches atop the spongy cake. In fact, Rosie had people that came in daily for that one special cupcake. The fact that she let Lizzie create the batter and frosting now showed that she had immense trust in her.

With the cupcakes baked, the menagerie of pastries created, and the colorful macarons perfectly positioned in the display counter in the front of the shop, Rose started prepping the savory lunchtime goodies since it was almost that time. She was thankful that even though the shop was busy, it wasn’t as busy as normal. She was placing pans on her 10-burner stove in preparation for the lunch rush, and she could have sworn she heard something gently rapping on her back door. She stopped what she was doing for a moment and listened quietly. Something, or someone was definitely knocking lightly on that back door.

“That’s… strange.” She said aloud to herself. She grabbed one of the heavy pans tightly and made her way to the door. She gripped the handle and pulled the door open in one swift whoosh, all while holding the pan above her head ready to strike.

“Whoa! It’s just me, Henry!” He said defensively, hands up in the air. “It’s alright!”

“What in the hell are you doing knocking on the back door like that? We have a front door… most people just use _that_ entrance!” She took a couple of deep breaths, while he bent over, laughing. “You just scared me, is all. I’m sorry, Henry. I suppose you can’t really just stroll through the front… being… who you are.” She stepped back and let him enter the kitchen.

A knowing look spread across Henry’s face. “No, it’s all my fault. I suppose you figured out who I was, then?” He was a bit disappointed. He liked it when people were oblivious to the fact that he was famous. He saw a more genuine side of them than before they knew he was famous that he cherished.

“Um… yeah. I knew I recognized your voice on the phone. Then I put the name Henry Cavill, the name Kal… Kal-El being Superman’s real name… plus, the enormous bakery order from yesterday all together… it wasn’t that hard.” She turned from a bakery rack and smiled at him.

“Ah. Yes, well I suppose you don’t have to play detective to figure it out, do you?” He grinned at the floor and ran his fingers through those brown curls that haphazardly sat atop his head. Rosie looked away quickly because the sight of him doing that was giving her those stupid fucking butterflies that began to float around in her tummy.

“So,” she began, as she slid a large, hot sheet pan of bread onto a cooling rack. “How can I help you today? I don’t suppose you came back particularly for the exciting atmosphere of this kitchen?” She giggled.

“Actually, Rosalie, I noticed it was about lunch time, my stomach was growling. I knew _just_ the place that I wanted to eat. Everyone absolutely _raved_ about everything I brought yesterday.” He grinned as he leaned against the metal counter, crossing his muscular arms. The light blue, tight t-shirt he wore accentuated every little one of those muscles.

“Really? I’m glad.” She stopped what she was doing and leaned against the counter next to him. “You had enough sugar in those boxes to put about 12 people into a diabetic coma.”

He laughed loudly. “And it just about did!” Henry’s stomach audibly growled. “About that lunch…”

“Oh! Well, would you like to dine in the front with the regular customers? It’s kinda quiet and gloomy back here.”

“Actually, I’d prefer to eat back here with you if that suits you, Rosalie. I’m not really in the mood for the whole public circus bit today.” He turned from the counter and looked into her dark amber eyes.

“Ohhh, so you’d like the whole private chef’s table experience, would you?” She goaded.

“I suppose I would.” He said as his eyes wandered down to Rosie’s lips, which she quickly noticed.

“Um, well, here you are.” She mentioned as she pulled a stool up to the counter behind Henry. ‘God, this man has a great ass… and some thick thighs…’ she thought to herself and cleared her throat. “Just so you know, I’m only doing this for you because it’s slow right now. In no way am I accommodating you because you happen to be Superman, and you looked pretty fantastic that hero suit.”

“Ah, you tease! So, you saw the movie, then?”

“Of course, along with every man, woman and child on the planet.” She laughed.

“Who’d you see it with? Did they enjoy it?” He asked, curiously.

She wasn’t about to tell him that she had seen it with her ex-husband. “Uh… that’s a story for a different day.” She wasn’t in the mood. “So, kind patron, here is our menu. Please peruse it, and order at your leisure.”

He laughed widely at her words, and she noticed that canine of his that stuck out just a bit more than the other. She’d be lying if she said that didn’t take her mind to a more primal place… like a Henry-biting-her-skin-in-total-ecstasy-place.

“Mmm…” He growled. “I believe I shall begin with a Blossoming Hot Chocolate. Sounds interesting.” His blue eyes cast up toward her and he grinned. He watched as she grabbed a large mug and went to the coffee machine, filling the mug with the richest hot chocolate in London.

“What makes my hot chocolate so special is the marshmallow, and the way I prepare it.” She placed the mug in front of him and retrieved a large marshmallow that she placed on top of his hot chocolate. In a moment, pieces of the marshmallow began to fold out, finally creating the perfect white ‘bloom’ atop his hot drink.

“That was incredible!” Henry laughed, seeming to be utterly amazed. He reached for the mug, and Rosie stopped him.

“It’s very hot. You’ll have to blow on it to cool it off.”

“Blowing is something I can do.” He grinned toward her with a wink and began to blow on the marshmallow topping. She quickly turned away from him before he could see her blush.

“So, what would you like to eat, Henry?” She had hoped it would be something quick and easy so she could get him out of here in a hurry. He made her entirely too nervous.

“Well, it all looks so marvelous… mmm… I believe I’ll have the Spinach Gruyère Quiche. After that, I believe I’ll have the Smoked Mozzarella, Tomato, and Horseradish Panini. Yes, that sounds good. Oh, and a hot mulled apple cider for when I’m finished with my hot chocolate. I’ll begin looking over the dessert menu.”

Rosie’s eyebrows raised and a smirk on her lips. “You want all of that? That’s a lot of food.”

“I have a very large appetite, Rosalie.” Their eyes locked for a moment, and she realized that he might not _just_ be talking about food.

“Yes, well, I’ll begin getting that ready for you.” She first served him his cider and quiche, which was gone in about 3.5 seconds, and then the panini. She was refilling his cider, when he wiped his mouth and came up for air from his food.

“Rosalie, this is some of the best food I’ve ever tasted.”

She scoffed. “Oh, please. You’re a celebrity. You’ve eaten at some of the most pretentious, expensive restaurants all over the world.”

“Yes, but those don’t compare to this. Really. Would Superman lie?”

She laughed. “No, but Clark Kent might.”

He smiled. He couldn’t help it. This woman was extraordinary… she was beautiful, funny, smart, independent and most of all – driven. She had her own very successful business and was happy doing it. She wouldn’t want him for his money. She had made her own life. He had normally gone for younger girls because he could mold them into what _he_ needed, but they could never provide him with the wit or intellectual bond that he so desired from a woman. Someone his age that had the same goals as he did. Begin to settle down, begin a devoted relationship, and start a family of his own – after all, he wanted a herd of kids. He had grown up in a family of 5 brothers, and he wanted that for his own children. He realized his mind was wandering where it shouldn’t be and turned his attention back to the woman who was looking at him.

“So, let’s check out this dessert menu...” He sighed happily. “… always my favorite part.”

She giggled as she watched his beautiful eyes peruse the menu. His face was fucking perfect. Clean shaven today, chiseled jaw, perfect nose, those beautiful lips… and that cleft in his chin that always made her weak in the knees for men.

“What in the world is a ‘cronut’?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“A cronut is a bit like a croissant and a bit like a donut. So, if a croissant and a donut had a baby… voilá – cronut. Our flavor is different each week.”

“And what is your flavor this week, chef?” He asked with a smoothness to his voice.

She placed both elbows on the counter to lean down, and he caught just a bit of cleavage beneath her chef’s apron. He quickly averted his eyes, this wasn’t like that. “This week’s flavor is a blood peach lychee, filled with peach jam and creamy lychee ganache, finished with a bit of lemon zest sugar.”

The way she described this dessert made his mind wander again, and all her talk about peaches and creamy ganache and sugar and _filled_ things, was beginning to make blood rush to a place it shouldn’t. _Stop it Henry!_

“Oh, yes, I’ll definitely have one of those now. I think I’d like to take one of your Cotton Soft Cheesecakes, and a Salted Caramel Éclair home with me.”

“Yes sir, I will get that ready for you.” She chuckled.

Fuck, what was he getting himself into? He had been trying to stay away from women… this one, it seems, he couldn’t resist. His body was betraying him, and he was glad that he had worn some looser denim trousers today instead of the tighter ones he had almost worn. He was finishing up his cronut and cider and watching her flitter around the kitchen filling other orders.

She placed his to-go desserts in a styrofoam container for him, and even made him a to-go coffee with a lid. “Oh! I almost forgot…” She handed him another to-go container. “I don’t sell these to customers, I just make them for Athena… but I think Kal might enjoy them, too.”

Henry laughed and opened the lid to the container. They were large bone shaped cookies.

“Don’t worry, they’re completely dog safe. I make them with bacon. Athena loves them.”

They began to walk out to Henry’s Aston-Martin, and Henry put his goodies in the passenger seat. “I’m not even sure what to say, Rosie. Thank you. That was incredible.” He smiled an enormous smile. “How much do I owe you for all this? I ate a ton of food.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Henry. It’s on the house.”

“What? No way. I’m paying for my lunch.” He stated with a bit of a warning tone.

“No… you _aren’t_. It was nice to have company and good conversation in the kitchen today. Plus, you’ve given me hope that all men aren’t complete and utter dicks, so that deserves a meal.”

“Well, mine was more like a banquet.” He laughed. “I’ll find a way to return the favor.”

Rosalie laughed loudly and rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Mr. Cavill.”

“You can bet on it, Miss… I’m sorry, I don’t even know your last name.”

“Reed… Rosalie Reed.”

“Well, Miss Reed, my lovely American Chef. I hope to see you again soon.”

“Ha! We’ll see about that.”

Henry grinned, making his dimples stand out. “No, really, I had fun today, Rosalie.” He grabbed her hand and placed a kiss upon it. _Men still do that?_

“Me too.” She couldn’t help that the pink blush was now completely spreading across her face.

“You’re beautiful, you know that? And thanks for thinking about Kal, that really means a lot. See you soon.”

The Aston Martin pulled away leaving her there grinning like an idiot with a bright pink face. After her divorce, she almost swore off men. Maybe this one could change her mind?


End file.
